


Until Morning Comes

by whereismywarden (PearOh)



Series: Dragon Age - Champion Alwyn Hawke - Sad Mages Worldstate [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bottom Hawke (Dragon Age), Budding Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Getting over a break up, M/M, Mage-Templar Relationship, One Night Stand that turns into a Relationship, Post-Break Up Angst, Post-Dragon Age II, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PearOh/pseuds/whereismywarden
Summary: Hawke still feels the weight of Anders' absence, but maybe Rylen is exactly what he needs to ease the pain.





	Until Morning Comes

They fumble on the bed, sweat-slicked flesh pressed together in drunken passion. The old wooden frame grunts under their weight, seemingly alive beneath their animated bodies. Alwyn sinks his face deep into the pillow, revelling in the feeling of Rylen’s strong arms wrapped around him and his cock buried inside of him. His hands are looking for something to hold onto, the sheets, the headboard, anything. Rylen twists his hips, driving them back and forth with such an ardent desire that it leaves Alwyn a shuddering mess. He comes hard, his muffled groan still loud in the relative silence of the room. His knees give out and he falls flat onto the mattress as Rylen finishes himself off on his back.

But as they clean themselves up, Alwyn’s mind drifts off to another time, not so long ago, and another man, with whom he shared six years of his life. He still wonders sometimes, what became of Anders or what could have been, had Alwyn decided not to break-up with him. Would they have been happy together? Would  _ he _ have been happy, on the run, always looking over his shoulder? Not that his current situation is that much better, hiding his face under a hood while he helps clean up rubble around the city.

Wherever he is, Alwyn hopes Anders is happy. And most importantly, that he is safe.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asks Rylen in the dead of night as they lay together under the sheets, limbs entwined in a blissful embrace.

The man chuckles. “Is it your roundabout way of telling me I’m fantastic in bed?”

“I’m sorry,” Alwyn sighs. “I just— This got me thinking about… stuff.”

Stuff he should not be thinking about. Not now anyway. Not while he’s got his arms wrapped around a templar’s waist and rough hands sliding up and down his back with soft caresses.

“I didn’t leave anyone behind in Starkhaven if that’s where you were going with your question. You?”

“No, I don’t have anyone waiting for me in Starkhaven either.”

He isn’t entirely sure Sebastian doesn’t have an arrow with his name on it. But despite the prince’s threats, Alwyn knows he doesn’t have it in him to attack Kirkwall or come after him. Anders though… 

“So, now what?” he asks, trying to shake the healer from his mind.

“Now we go back to our lives,” Rylen says in a very matter-of-fact tone. “I never had expectations that this would last beyond tonight.”

“What if I don’t want this to be just one night?”

A shadow passes through Rylen’s clear blue eyes. He gives him a thoughtful look, as if searching for answers to a question he is unwilling to ask.

“I’m not him, you know. I’ve never met him but I’m pretty certain I’m nothing like Anders.”

Alwyn jumps up, untangling himself from Rylen to step off the bed. Ever since the Chantry explosion, he’s been careful with his frequentations. He doesn’t give his name, he doesn’t visit the same establishment twice in a row, he doesn’t even go to the Hanged Man, or even the Blooming Rose anymore. He always makes sure there’s no one around who could recognize him before he allows himself a moment of reprieve. And Rylen? He only arrived in Kirkwall two weeks ago, he hasn’t been here long enough to even know what his face looks like. 

“How long have you known?”

“Somewhere between ‘You can call me Al’ and ‘Wanna get a room?’” There is no malice in the templar’s voice, no threat whatsoever. If anything, he sounds almost apologetic. “I figured you had good reasons to lie.”

“Why did you agree to come with me if you knew who — or rather  _ what  _ — I was? That I was a mage?”

“Well, I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice so please, don’t let it go to your head, but you’re a very handsome man, Hawke.”

Alwyn can feel a blush creeping over him. Oh, he is very much aware of the effect he has on people. He makes a lot of efforts to groom his hair in the morning. But somehow, hearing it from him makes his heart flutter like it hasn’t in a very long time. Maybe it’s the accent. Maybe he’s still coming down from the high of his climax. Or maybe Rylen awakened something in him he thought Anders had taken with him when he left.

“I loved Anders with all my soul, but in the end, it didn’t work between us. And maybe it never did,” he adds, remembering their numerous breakups over the years. “I don’t want someone like him, I want someone I could be compatible with.”

“And you think I could be that someone?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, “but I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”

Rylen gives him a deep sigh. “You are aware that I am a templar, right?”

“Really,  _ Knight-Captain_? I had no idea.” 

“This is a serious matter, Hawke.”

“Then why haven’t you put me in chains and dragged me to the Gallows yet?” Alwyn teases him.

“You’ve not given me any reason to,” he answers pointedly. “Besides, we’re too busy helping civilians to even consider taking the Champion of Kirkwall into custody.”

“Afraid I would kick your arse?”

“Afraid of the public opinion if we arrest their hero.”

“I’m nobody’s hero,” he sighs.

“Try telling that to the masses.” Alwyn sits back on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, his back turned to Rylen. “Hey, you saved these people more times than I can count, you know that, right?”

“You weren’t there.”

Slowly, Rylen pulls back the covers to come to sit next to him. He grasps his chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently turns his head to look him in the eyes. “You’re right, I wasn’t. But these people were and they know who they owe their lives to.”

“Don’t believe  _ everything  _ you hear. I don’t drink out of the Arishok’s skull, for example.”

A smile spreads on his face. “Yes, I gathered as much.”

Alwyn loses himself in the man’s eyes. He’s got such beautiful eyes, he thinks. A beautiful blue, more like the summer sky than the sea and he thanks the Maker for them.

“Anyway, what I meant to say is,” Rylen moves on, “if we’re going to try this… dating… thing… we’ll need to be careful. And perhaps lay down some ground rules.”

“Don’t worry, ‘Careful’ is my middle name.”

“Considering the things I’ve heard about you, Messere, perhaps your parents should have opted for ‘Monkey’ instead.”

It’s a simple quip, it’s not even  _ that _ funny, but it makes Alwyn laugh.  _ He _ makes Alwyn laugh. Not a quiet snort or a small chuckle, but a full-blown howl that resonates through the room. It’s a sound no one has heard in a while, not since his mother died. Maybe not even since they lost Bethany. And it’s a contagious kind of laughter. It’s earnest and loud, and Rylen soon doubles over, holding his ribs like they’re hurting. They both laugh so hard tears gather in the corners of their eyes. 

When the uncontrollable shaking stops and they’re able to breathe normally again, Alwyn leans forward and brushes his lips against his. He kisses him softly at first, then more deeply, pushing him back into the mattress to climb on top of him. Rylen’s rough hands travel down his back before settling on his arse. He gives it a firm squeeze and Alwyn feels himself growing hard again.

“Just to be clear,” Rylen mutters when his mouth is finally free, “I was serious about establishing those ground rules.”

“But it can wait ‘till morning, right?” Alwyn asks semi-innocently as he starts trailing kisses down the man’s tattooed chin.

He nibbles at his collarbone and Rylen lets out a sharp gasp. “Yes, I suppose it can,” he answers with a smile.


End file.
